There's Always Tomorrow
by jvalj
Summary: Oneshot. Kevin tries to help Connor come to terms with who he is, but in doing so reveals just how much help he needs himself. McPriceley.


"Connor?" No response, but he didn't dare say it any louder. "Connor?"

Kevin Price tiptoed gingerly out of his room, taking great care with the squeaky door and the creaky floorboards. He stepped into the common room, feeling especially conscious of how dark and spooky the room felt without the warm presence of the other elders. He pulled a small yellow flashlight out of his pocket and shone it into the corners of the room. "Connor!"

"Kevin, shh!"

Kevin gasped and instantly felt silly. He had always been the tiniest bit afraid of the dark, something he had never told anyone, not even Connor. But then, it was only two short weeks ago that the two of them had begun divulging their life stories to each another one by one in these secret meetings. To Kevin it felt like much longer, but he didn't have much to compare to in the way of genuine friendships.

Connor peeked around the corner, then gestured for Kevin to follow him into the hallway. This was normal – they liked to sit out on the porch of the little building they called home, watching the stars and chatting idly until they couldn't bear the mosquitoes any longer. But something was off. Usually Connor would tap on Kevin's door twice, almost inaudibly, and wait for Kevin in the common room. Tonight there had been no tap, only footsteps that had paused ever so briefly in front of Kevin's door before continuing down the hall.

"Hey, what's up? You didn't-"

Kevin stopped himself. Connor had turned to face him, and even in the dim light of the porch lamp Kevin could see the tears.

"What's – what's wrong?" Kevin wasn't good with emotions. He was good at masking emotions – covering up anger or envy with a smile, for example. But this was new.

"Nothing. I was thinking."

"You obviously don't have very happy thoughts." He meant for it to sound light-hearted, but it was clearly the wrong response. Connor's face grew red. "No, I mean – sorry, do you want to talk about it?"

"Well, no. I mean—I want to talk but – this is just a bad – maybe we shouldn't do this tonight." Connor wouldn't meet his eyes, which made Kevin's heart sink. He knew what Connor had been trying to deal with but didn't ever know exactly what to say or do, or even how to feel about it. Thinking for too long about Connor's self-deception gave him a strange, almost guilty feeling that he couldn't quite pin down.

"Hey, listen. It's okay – you can tell me whatever you want. Seriously." He paused for a moment. "And I mean, there's always tomorrow, do you want to go back in—?" But Connor was already shaking his head, his head in his hands. "Well hey - if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. We can talk about something else. I can tell you a story, if you want?"

"No, I have a story," Connor said in a tiny voice. He wiped both of his eyes without lifting his head and took a deep, shuddering breath. "Do you want to hear it?" His voice had become more resolute, although it was still shaky.

"Um – sure. Yeah. Whatever you want to tell me. Go ahead."

"Okay." He straightened up. "Um, once. . . there was a boy. And he was different. And he was okay with being different – like, he didn't hate himself or anything like that. Everyone is different and everyone is special, right? That's what they tell you. But not everyone else was okay with it. His parents – they weren't okay with it."

"Connor."

"No, don't. Just – let me do this. So he grew up – the boy grew up. And he was proud of the work he had done and the goals he had. And he thought maybe everyone else would see all the good things he had done and realize that he was just like them. But that didn't work. So then the boy got sent away, and he was happy. He thought being sent away would be good, like that would finally make them forget the bad things and see all of the good things that he would do. And then they would love him again. But it turned out that even if you travel far away, even if you do everything you're supposed to do, none of it helps. Nothing can help you if you're a – an-"

"A what, Connor? You're not anything-you're—let's not think about this right now—"

Connor laughed bitterly, and it caught Kevin off-guard.

"An abomination. That's what my dad said to me. I'm here on my mission and I'm a district leader and I'm an abomination to my family."

"No."

"Yes. It's okay. I've gotten that – or some variation of it – for years now. It's not news to me. It's sad, yeah, but only every once in a while, or if I really start thinking about—Kevin?"

Connor stood up and rushed across the porch to where Kevin was standing, facing the moon, hastily wiping away what were unmistakably tears.

"Oh no, Kevin, no! Now I've made you upset, I didn't mean to do that, we shouldn't have started talking about this! You were the one person who was immune to me and my family and my dumb emotions, you were like – sunshine peeking through the storm clouds, or something! And now look!" He was babbling and he knew it, but this was something he didn't expect. Kevin never showed emotion – ever. Maybe that had taken more of a toll on him than Connor realized. "Oh, come here." Connor threw his arms around Kevin's waist and hugged him tightly, his head on Kevin's shoulder.

Kevin sighed and rubbed his eyes, then allowed himself to melt into the embrace. He didn't love hugs as a general rule, but this felt comfortable. "You're so brave."

Connor pulled away slowly, looking up into Kevin's eyes. "That's – not what I expected to hear."

"Why not?"

"Because nothing I do is brave. I hide from everyone and everything. I can't come to terms with it, being what I am – I can't even say it! I can laugh the whole thing off, sure, but is that a strength? It sure doesn't seem like it to me."

Kevin reached out and touched Connor's shoulder, then drew his hand back. They weren't hugging anymore, but there was still less than an arm's length between them. "I'm gay."

Connor didn't miss a beat. "No, you're not."

"Yeah I am. Are you saying you don't believe me?"

"Yes, I don't believe you. Don't do that, Kevin. You can try to make me feel better if you want, and it's sweet that you feel this badly, but don't—"

"Connor McKinley. I am standing here on this porch in Uganda, looking into your eyes, and I have just listened to you tell me your sad story, and now I am telling you that I am gay. I don't pity you – well no, I do, but that wouldn't be a reason for me to say I was gay. Me being gay would. And I am."

Connor took a step backwards, and for one terrifying moment Kevin thought he was going to walk back into the house. Then he looked him in the eyes. "Okay, why now? Why—Kevin, this is really bad timing—"

"I know it is, okay? And maybe I shouldn't have even said it at all. But it's true, and I can't take it back now. And I'm not trying to like, be with you or anything, okay? I know that's not what you need right now, or whatever. I just wanted you to know – I've never told anyone, I've never even admitted it to myself! And here you are dealing with everything all on your own, without any support from anyone, that's brave! And I'm…" He trailed off, but the pain was visible in his eyes.

"Hey. Stop, breathe, think, okay? This is fine. It's not a big deal – I mean, it is, but nobody needs to know right now. I'm not going to think of you any differently." Connor wanted to laugh at the irony of the position he'd been put in, but he already felt as though Kevin might burst into tears at any moment. "Let's just take this one day at a time. I—I didn't expect any of this to happen."

Kevin sniffled. "Me neither. But I'm so glad it did."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Connor, you may not have noticed this, but I didn't exactly have any real friends. You—you've taught me so much already." Suddenly he was crying earnestly. Somehow, his hand had found its way into McKinley's. "Even if we don't—even if we're just friends, that's okay. Because that's more than I ever expected to have here. That's why I told you that, that I'm gay. Because you're my friend. And I don't want that to change anything, or make you think differently of me—even though why would I worry about that? You're gay too, I know that, but I don't know, I don't know anything about having friends."

"Kevin—you need to sleep. We're both so tired – there's always tomorrow, right? Let's try to talk about this tomorrow. I'm glad you're my friend too, okay?"

"Okay." Kevin smiled, because there would be a tomorrow, and there would be a day after that, and he could face it all as long as he had his brave friend Connor. As they slowly made their way back into the building, hands still intertwined, he leaned in close to Connor and whispered, "I meant all of that."

"I know."


End file.
